A faint whimper broke the lull. The boy's eyes shifted to the sound, and saw a small creature, trembling at the base of a splintering tree trunk. A cub—furry and also matted with blood and with one leg torqued at an unnatural angle. It must have been caught in the chaos of battle, left behind like the rest of the corpses littering around the battlefield.
His stomach roiled. It was not pity that made his fingers grip it tighter—it was a different hunger; a hunger for power.
Devour.
The ability was rather fascinating. But the last time, he had consumed a human soul. This was different, and there was only one way to find out how.
He approached, slowly and methodically. The cub flinched, its brown eyes staring at him, pleading. But he had no weapons, no blade to end it swiftly.
He picked up a jagged stone.
Anything could be used to kill.
The first strike missed, grazing its side. It let out a weak cry, trying to crawl away. His hands trembled. He clenched his jaw and brought the stone down again—this time harder. The sound of cracking bone made him shudder, but he didn't stop. Again. And again. Until there was silence.
A long breath escaped his lips. The weight of what he had done settled in his chest, but there was no room for regret. He had chosen this path.
[Devour Activated]
The sensation was instant. A familiar, chilling pull as his body drank in the essence of the cub. But something was wrong. The rush of power—the conquering wave he'd experienced when he devoured that man—was minimal. It was weak—hardly a ripple—compared to the raging storm from earlier.
His body absorbed it, still the only discernible difference was a faint warmth in his chest. His heart... It did feel stronger. But that was it. He frowned. A mere cub's body didn't compare to a human's, it seemed.
And also the fact that he was unable to absorb the cubs soul which decreased the skill power even more.
A trace of irritation entered his mind, but instantly dissipated as his gaze wandered across the field of corpses.
There were more. A lot more.
Without hesitation, he moved to the nearest body, placing his hand on its hollow chest.
[Devour Activated]
The rush returned, stronger this time. The body beneath him shriveled, its flesh sinking inward, leaving only sagging skin stretched over bone. A lifeless husk.
Another.
And another.
The battlefield became a feast of death. One by one, the bodies around him withered, their life force consumed to restore him. He barely noticed the gruesome sight he was leaving behind, only feeling the growing warmth spreading through his veins.
Then, a new notification appeared before his eyes.
[You have devoured a large amount of life force. Maximum HP increased.]
His breath hitched. A sudden sensation swept through him—not strength, not power, but… vitality. His malnourished frame no longer felt as fragile. His limbs, once thin and weak, now carried a hint of life. His ribs no longer ached with every breath.
And his heart. It pulsed stronger, steadier.
His fingers curled into a fist. He still wasn't strong. He was still a shadow of what he needed to become. But this was a start.
He turned to the next body, hunger gleaming in his eyes.
Devour.
He devoured multiple bodies disregarding their age, gender, beauty or anything else as he felt something a rush of life force making him feel addicted to this sensation and as such a very menacing smile came on his face almost stretching beyond his face.
He placed his hand on another body, ready to activate Devour again. But nothing happened.
A strange feeling crept up his spine—an emptiness, a void where there should have been power. His mana… it was gone.
Then, out of the blue, his stomach lurched violently. A stabbing pain pierced through his chest, and in reflex, he lurched forward and vomited onto the blood-stained ground. He shivered, limbs trembling as he struggled to remain upright.
He gasped for air while sweat dripped from his forehead. What... the hell was that? His mind was trying to make sense of all that just happened—but of course, it was obvious.
His mind struggled to process what had just happened, but the answer was obvious. He had pushed himself too far. Used Devour over and over, blinded by the rush of power, without even considering his own pathetic mana reserves.
"...Tch." He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, glaring at his trembling fingers. "I got carried away."
The feeling of emptiness gnawed at him, a stark contrast to the overwhelming surge he had felt just moments ago. So that's the cost…
Mana Overuse. A punishment for going beyond his limit.
His legs felt like they would give out at any given moment but he forced himself to barely be able to stay standing.
The effect of overusing the mana use much more severe than what was shownin the game but its good that he felt it when he had low mana as the higher the mana the severe the backlash.
He took a slow, shuddering breath, his fingers still twitching from the aftershock of mana overuse. His body felt drained, weaker than before. He clenched his jaw.
"I won't let this happen again." His voice was low but firm. "From now on, I'll always keep track of my mana… no matter what."
He forced his body to move, going towards a wall a few feet away. He placed a hand against the rough wall to steady himself. To his dismay he found his legs felt almost disjointed from his mind a sense of lethargy had overtaken him. He needed to rest, just a little time.
He was unsure of how long he was resting, time had passed but not a good sense of how long. At some point his breathing steadied, the dizziness receded just enough for him to move his body properly, he was more or less evened out. As he pushed himself off the wall, something shiny caught his eye at the base of the pile of corpses.
A dagger.
It was a bit dull, its edge worn down from use, but the weight in his hand felt reassuring. Better than a stone.
Just as he adjusted his grip on the handle, a sound broke through the eerie silence.
A voice—deep, rough, and angry.
Then… crying.
A woman's cries.
His grip tightened. His eyes flicked toward the source of the sound, a darkened corner just beyond the battlefield.
Carefully, he stepped forward, making his way toward the voices.
He wasn't a fool. He had no intention of playing the hero and saving the woman. That wasn't who he was. But if he could, he wanted to kill the man.
The equipment alone made it worth it. Even if most of the gear wouldn't fit him due to the size difference, there was still a chance he could find something useful—money, weapons, anything. After all, the bandits had looted everything else, leaving only corpses behind. Everything except a certain something that was still in that man's possession.
He just wanted to try his luck.
Lowering his body, he crept forward, using the dead bodies as cover. Each step was slow, controlled. His heartbeat was steady now, his earlier weakness fading bit by bit.
[Sneak (Lv. 1)- Activated]
A faint notification flickered in his vision. It seemed that recovering some mana had allowed him to use abilities again, even if only simple ones. Good. That would make things easier.
------
The man smirked, gripping the woman's arm tightly as she squirmed beneath him. He had already torn most of her clothing, the thin fabric barely covering anything now. Her sobs only made it more enjoyable.
"Heh, keep crying, girl. No one's coming to save you." He chuckled, pressing her down harder against the ground. "Your little village? Burned. Your family? Dead. You should be grateful I'm even giving you a purpose now."
The woman thrashed, but her strength was nothing compared to his. He was well-fed, armed, and had enjoyed his fair share of spoils from this raid. She, on the other hand, was weak—tired, hungry, broken.
He leaned in closer, inhaling her scent with a twisted grin.
Then, somewhere in the distance, a faint cry rang out. A dog's whimper, weak and fading.
For a brief moment, his brow furrowed.
Huh? A dog?
But he dismissed it just as quickly. Probably some half-dead mutt left behind in the attack. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered except the moment he was enjoying right now.
"Now… where were we?"
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AUTHOR ={I will Put Keal Status at the end every now and then}
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[Status]
Name: Kael
Level: 1
Class: None
HP: 25/25
MP: 3/10
Strength: 5
Agility: 4
Endurance: 6
Intelligence: 22
Perception: 3
Traits: [Indomitable Will ]
Active Skills: [Devour (F-) [Apprentice] (12%)][Sneak (F-) [Novice] (5%)]
Passive Skills: [Critical Hit]
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